


Two Things That Never Happened To Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

by spike21, The Spike (spike21)



Category: Angel: the Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-08
Updated: 2003-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spike21/pseuds/spike21, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spike21/pseuds/The%20Spike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate fates for my favourite Watcher. For Kita's challenge, with props to Basingstoke</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Things That Never Happened To Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

**i) The Good Parts Version**

Gunn lived in a grand old hotel in the city of Los Angeles. His favorite past-times were killing vampires and tormenting the Watcher that worked there. His name was Wesley. But Gunn never called him that. Nothing gave Gunn as much pleasure as ordering Wesley around.

"English, polish my hubcap axe. I want to see my face shining in it by morning."

"As you wish," said Wesley and by morning the axe was so shiny and sharp it made the list of 50 Deadliest Weapons Made From Car Parts.

"English, translate this scroll from ancient whatchmahoozit to something readable. There has to be an answer in there."

"As you wish," said Wesley and within hours the ancient scroll was translated and annotated and edited for brevity and sure enough Gunn found the answers he required.

"English..." said Gunn.

"As you wish..." said Wesley.

"I haven't even asked yet," said Gunn. But Wesley just smiled and waited for his next order and when it was given he replied the way he always replied:

"As you wish," he said. In fact, 'As you wish' was all he ever said to Gunn.

"English, what time is it?" Gunn would ask, absentmindedly.

"As you wish," Wesley would say and then wait patiently for Gunn to rephrase the question so it made some sense. And then one day Gunn was amazed to discover that when Wesley said 'as you wish,' what he meant was, 'I love you.' And even more amazing was the day Gunn realized he truly loved Wesley back.

"English," Gunn murmured into Wesley's ear. "It's been a long damn time since you wore your leathers. How about we take a spin on that pretty bike of yours..." Wesley leaned back just slightly into Gunn's space and smiled a secret, English smile.

"As you wish..." he whispered.

They rode together long and hard and the wind blew in their faces. But Wesley had no money for marriage and no Detective Agency credentials of his own, so he packed his few belongings and left the hotel to seek his fortune in another dimension across the sea.

It was a very emotional time for Gunn.

"I'm never going to see you again, am I?" Gunn said.

"Of course you will," Wesley said.

"But what if something happens to you?"

"Hear this now, I will always come for you."

"If you say so, English..." But Wesley held him firmly and squeezed Gunn's hands and gazed fiercely into his eyes.

"This is true love," Wesley said. "You think this happens every day?"

They kissed and it was truly one of the world's great kisses. Perhaps it reached number three on the list of all time great kisses and would have climbed higher had not Clark Kent finally chosen that morning of all mornings to kiss Lex Luthor on the mouth during a charity sack-race at the exact same moment that, deep in Middle Earth, a young Frodo Baggins had finally looked over and seen, really *seen* Samwise Gamgee in the light of a Gondorian dawn and pressed their lips ever so gently together.

Wesley left L.A. that day but sadly he didn't reach his destination. His ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Holtz, who never left captives alive. When Gunn got the news that Wesley was murdered, he went into his room and shut the door, and for days he neither slept nor ate.

"I am *never* loving again," said Gunn.

Then one day Prince Winnifredperdinck rode into town...

  
 **ii) Unbirthday**

It was late, he was tired but it was feeding time and that was his job too. He listened at the door for a moment, but heard nothing. Thank God. It had been a bad morning and even though they'd gotten to all three calls in time, it was never a guarantee that Angel would be *there* enough to know. That it would help.

Which, while not expressly the point was in fact the entirety of why these days. Should anyone care to ask. Thank the powers that be no one ever did, these days and Wesley hid the bitter soundless laugh under an exhale of effort and pushed the door open with his good shoulder.

Angel swayed a little in the manacles, all his weight on his arms. His head rested against the tight V of his shoulder and his eyes were closed.

Vampire sleep. At least it looked like rest.

Wesley unlocked the winch. He held the pin in his teeth as he cranked Angel slowly to the mattress. The vampire stirred and folded himself into fetal. The chains clinked dully, muted. Wesley set the pin back in and sat down near Angel's hands.

"Is it morning?" Angel asked, not opening his eyes. "Can I go now?"

"Soon," Wesley said. The handcuffs were a bitch to open one handed but he had enough practice that it never really took that long. He rubbed Angel's cold wrists one at a time. The skin was smooth, almost powdery and so white. Angel's palms were soft. Faintly scarred. Wesley held one to his face, pressed it against his cheek. So cool. He sighed.

Charles would be warm when he crawled into beside him. No. Charles was a furnace in the dark. Angel whimpered.

"Shhh," Wesley said, laying Angel's hand back down. He smiled fondly, stroked the long, dark hair. "I brought you something." He slid his hand inside his breast pocket. Brushed wood.

The dark eyes shot open.

"*Yes.*" Angel said. Then, wincing: "No. No. Not yet. There's more."

Wesley hesitated, just for a moment -- there was always more and he was tired. It was a symptom of just *how* tired that when Cordelia Chase had shown up Roseda he'd dared hope.

Cordelia with her newly cast-off fame and her strange fearlessness and her kiss...

And the Sunnydale taint that apparently never left its victims. She'd kissed Angel and the wind had risen, the space of their kiss had glowed blue and then she'd faded and was gone.

Angel had done nothing but scream and tear at his mouth for a week. And then things had been rather worse for a while after that.

Things were quieter now, but whether they were better...

It wasn't like 'better' was a measurable quality in a world of infinite despair. Angel would go on and on, the demons would come and come and with each one would come a vision to point someone in some direction, whether he or Charles or someone they had trained. Or someone *they* had trained in turn. And still more would die than live and still there was nothing but punishment to come. If that wasn't Hell...

By rights Angelus had earned this. But Angelus would never pay this price. A hand on his knee and Wesley covered it with his own as he looked down. Choked on his own caught breath at the sight of something he hadn't ever expected to see again.

Warmth. Sanity. The play of a smile at the corners of brown eyes he never could deny.

"Angel...?" he said. It came out a whisper. Angel smiled. His eyes slipped closed.

"It's okay," he said, gripping Wesley's hand for a second, before he let it go. "I'm warm now. My head doesn't hurt. I can be alone."

*


End file.
